How the Magical Have Fallen
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Family is about compromise. But when Scorpius realizes how happy his grandchildren are without using magic, is there any common ground?


_For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition._

 _Holyhead Harpies, Beater 2_

 _Mandatory: Write about a time wizardkind has gotten so used to Muggle technology they find themselves using magic less and less._

 _Optional Prompts: confusion and cartoons._

 _Word Count 1855_

* * *

Scorpius shivers, letting out a groan when he realizes his favorite blanket is on the other side of the room- no doubt carelessly discarded by his youngest grandson. He sighs and grips his wand, his gnarled, arthritic fingers burning painfully at the movement. Scorpius whines. He wishes Rose was still with him; she could brew the best arthritis remedies.

"Accio blanket," he says with a shaky wave of his wand; the woolen square of grey and green flies neatly across the room and falls over his lap.

"Really, Grandpa?" Lorelei says, turning her attention away from the book that she's reading. At twelve, she thinks she's much too old to bother with the silly cartoons her brothers' eyes are currently glued to. "Magic just to get a blanket? So unnecessary."

"Yeah," Llewellyn agrees, though his voice is much quieter than his sister's. He is only nine years old and hasn't yet mastered the art of preteen confidence. "We have a robot for that!"

As if to prove her younger brother's point, Lorelei brandishes a remote the way she ought to hold a wand. Instead of an incantation and quick flick of her wrist, she simply prods a slender finger against a button, her crystal green eyes narrowing, a smirk playing at her lips. Instantly, a bit of metal rushes by, snatching the blanket from Scorpius' lap.

Only Lennon, three years old and happily apathetic to the sudden tension, doesn't bother with the conversation. He simply claps his pudgy hands together, bouncing eagerly. "Bot! Bot!"

Scorpius exhales deeply. He doesn't know exactly when the world changed. His own son lived in a generation where wizards mixed magic and technology in almost equal proportions. Now, his grandkids barely know how to hold wands. Even classes at Hogwarts have changed to focus less on wandwork and incantations and more on how integration can benefit the magical community.

"Back in my day, we didn't need all this fancy metal rubbish," Scorpius grumbles before waving his wand again and summoning his blanket from that blasted robot. He snatches it up and wraps it around his body, keeping as good a grip as his aching fingers will allow. "Wands were enough for us."

Lorelei rolls her eyes, tossing her dirty blonde curls over her shoulder. "In your day, people rode broomsticks for fun. Have you ever tried a hoverboard, Grandpa? Way better!"

"Better!" Lennon agrees before giggling.

Scorpius scowls. _Hoverboards_. He's watched Lorelei and Llewellyn play on them, happily preferring them to the broomsticks he and Rose bought them two Christmases ago. Hoverboards are useless, barely even lifting off the ground with little opportunity to control them.

Wincing, Scorpius climbs to his feet, his old knees popping painfully as he straightens his legs. "If you'll excuse me," he says.

He doesn't think he can take much more of his grandchildren prattling on about how great technology is. As much as he loves them, their obsession is unnatural and confuses him to no end. Why would they bother with these ridiculous things that cost money when they can simply use their wands? "Unnatural," he mutters under his breath, hobbling along.

The kids are on their feet in an instant, easily catching up with him. "Where are you going?" Llewellyn asks.

"Play! Play! Toons!" Lennon insists, waddling clumsily along.

"I need to start my arthritis potion," Scorpius answers simply.

"Can I help?" Lorelei offers, smiling so broadly that her face scrunches, her sprinkling of freckles wrinkling. "I'm the best in my year in Professor Zabini's class."

Scorpius softens as he looks at his granddaughter. A small smile tugs at his lips. At least one thing hasn't changed. Malfoys are still quite handy with a cauldron. He reaches out, ruffling the girl's curls fondly. "Of course, poppet," he says before aiming his wand at the fireplace and conjuring flames.

"Wha- What are you doing?" Llewellyn asks, his topaz eyes narrowing in confusion. "It's already hot in here!"

Lennon lets out a whine of agreement. Even Lorelei who, only moments ago volunteered her help, looks particularly offended by the sudden rush of heat.

Scorpius gestures at the cauldron dangling over the flames. "To heat the cauldron," he answers.

Lorelei gives a frustrated groan that Scorpius is all too familiar with. She uses it whenever any of the adults in her life embarrass her. "Grandpa, come on," she says, shaking her head. "Just use the microwave! It's much faster."

The words are too much of a shock. Scorpius feels his chest begin to tighten, and he's certain he will be reunited with Rose in the afterlife much sooner than he thought. He clutches at his shirt over his heart, trying to steady himself with deep breaths. Try as he might, he can't seem to steady his nerves. "Rooms. Now," he says. "No technology. Not a single bit of it."

Lorelei stamps her foot sharply against the marble tiles, cheeks turning an alarming shade of puce. "You can't do that. Our father-"

"Your parents are at work," Scorpius says simply. "Off you pop. I'll be around to confiscate your ridiculous technology momentarily. You're all grounded!"

"For how long?" Llewellyn cries, shaking his head stubbornly.

"Until you can learn to appreciate magic instead clinging to this… this rubbish!" Scorpius tells them, waving his hands in a frustrated gesture that can't quite convey how much he detests all this Muggle stuff.

Lennon whines and looks like he might unleash a devastating tantrum, but Lorelei picks him up. "Come on. It's okay. Grandpa just isn't any fun."

"I'll have you know I'm plenty of fun!" Scorpius shouts at their retreating figures. "Gobstones. Exploding Snaps. _That's_ fun!"

His grandchildren disappear. Within only a minute, he hears two distinctive _bangs_ as each door is slammed closed by an angry child. A third one follows, and he assumes it's Lorelei finally reaching her room after slamming Lennon's door since he's much too young to express his own frustration.

Scorpius huffs. Maybe he was too hard on them, or, more likely, maybe they deserved it. After all, magic is something to be proud of, to nurture. Why would the kids ever want to toss it aside like it means nothing at all?

…

Scorpius hobbles along, placing the final box of silly gadgets and Muggle toys in the living room. With a sweep of his wand, he turns off the television.

"I don't think it's ever been this quiet when I came home," his son calls as he enters the house. "Are my children still alive?"

Scorpius regards Brutus with tired eyes. "Alive and learning to appreciate magic instead of using this ridiculous junk-" He gestures at the boxes in the corner of the room. "-as a crutch."

He expects Brutus to thank him, to praise him. After all, if Scorpius' grandfather could see the way Muggle technology had consumed everything, there would be quite an uproar. Instead, Brutus just shifts his gaze from the boxes, to Scorpius, to the stairs, and back again, his forehead creasing in confusion. "You… You grounded them? Dad-"

Scorpius raises a dismissive hand. "No need to thank me," he says modestly. "It's my duty to-"

"Dad, they're kids," the younger man interrupts, his voice strangely sharp.

"Exactly!" Scorpius agrees. "They're young and giving up on magic!"

Brutus inhales deeply before exhaling through his mouth. Scorpius realizes what he's doing. Rose's mum taught them all this little calming technique when Brutus was younger and tempers would flare. "With all due respect, Dad, you're a bloody idiot," he says through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?"

"Times change. You know that as well as I do," Brutus continues; he doesn't even have the decency to look abashed at his bluntness. "Remember when I wanted a skateboard, and Mum had to talk you into letting me have fun?"

Scorpius swallows dryly. Of course he remembers. After a week of arguing, Rose had finally presented him with a set of compelling charts about why it was healthy to allow their son to experience Muggle joys.

"You understood that the world changed. Wizarding youth enjoyed all this new stuff because that's how a society evolves!" Brutus continues, and Scorpius is taken back to that argument with Rose all those years ago. Why does his son have to be as clever as Rose had been? "Our society is still evolving."

"But magic-"

"Magic isn't going to go extinct. It's still in our blood," his son says firmly. "Sure, we use it less because modern technology is more convenient sometimes, but come on!"

Scorpius shakes his head. While he knows that the other man has many good points, he doesn't want to let go of his own beliefs. After all, this is the life he's always known. Allowing a few pieces of technology into his family's lives was one thing. But how can Brutus ask him to accept a world that's so drastically different from the one he was raised in?

"Son, you have to understand that we will lose our traditions if we keep allowing this new age to influence our lives," Scorpius protests. "The Malfoys have always-"

"The Malfoys have always clung to toxic ideals," Brutus says. "And if you honestly think it's a good idea to keep that up… I'm sorry, Dad, but Mum would be ashamed of you if she was still alive."

Scorpius flinches as though his son his physically struck him. He turns away, trying to ignore the tears that sting his eyes. He wishes he could deny it, but Brutus is right. Rose and her entire family always spoke of integrating their world with the Muggle world. Scorpius never fully believed, but he went along with it for his wife. If he's honest, part of him even enjoyed some of the Muggle things. Rose would always tease him for developing a soft spot for romantic comedies.

His gaze flickers to the pile of things he's confiscated from his grandchildren. Acidic guilt eats away at his insides. "How do I make this right?" he asks quietly.

Brutus rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Open your mind, Dad."

…

"Grandpa, are you even trying?" Llewellyn teases as his character on the screen kills Scorpius' man much too easily.

Scorpius scowls at the controller. All those buttons and wobbly sticks are difficult to keep up with. He'd spent much of the game in confusion, desperately attempting to keep his character from running off cliffs. "I think I prefer the cartoons," he says dryly.

Lennon squeals and claps his hands. "Toons!" he agrees happily. "I wan' watch toons!"

"But I was playing!" Llewellyn pouts.

"You've had your turn," Brutus calls from the couch without looking up from his newspaper.

Reluctantly, Llewellyn grabs the remote and changes the channel until he finds those quirky farm animals that Lennon loves so much. Lennon lets out a happy giggle and clutches his stuffed animal, eyes fixed upon the screen.

"Hey, Grandpa," Lorelei calls. "Think you could teach me to play Gobstones?"

As Scorpius climbs to his feet and makes his way over to his granddaughter, he grins. Maybe there's hope for this strange generation after all.


End file.
